


Debut

by glymr, iesika



Series: Kings Among Runaways [24]
Category: DCU (Comics), Robin (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-03 00:22:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1063453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glymr/pseuds/glymr, https://archiveofourown.org/users/iesika/pseuds/iesika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim’s jaw is hard, the smallest hint of a smile on his lips, and he <i>does</i> growl.  “I’m Robin,” he says.</p><p>“Holy shit,” Jason whispers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Debut

The night air of Gotham smells a lot better from the rooftops than the alleys. It's windier, colder, but with the suit and cape and mask he can only feel it on his cheekbones. He could sleep up here, if he had a way to stay warm and dry. It would be safer than a doorway, and it only smells like wet concrete and asphalt and exhaust and pigeons, not…well, all the other things that alleys in Gotham usually smell like. Piss isn't even really the worst of it, no matter how pervasive the stink.

He can't see the stars, of course - Gotham just gets darker when there aren't any clouds to reflect sick-orange light pollution back down at the streets - but there are three stationary specks of light and two airplanes overhead right now. Somewhere up there is a space station, and Bruce had casually told Tim at dinner one night that, sure, he'd give them a tour when he got a chance. Once they were ready.

They're ready. Not for the space station, maybe, but… ready. Bruce said it, earlier tonight. Stood there solid while they suited up. Jason has trained in the suit enough times that the catches and little traps were already familiar. Tim's are _almost_ as familiar, though Jason's never had to do them up. Just… just strip the suit _off_ , because Tim's really got a thing for kevlar, apparently, the way some guys like leather or lace. 

Jason takes a deep breath and jumps off the roof.

He loses his breath completely before the line takes his weight, stretching just enough to take some of the strain from his shoulders. He has to lean a bit like a kid on a swingset, twist and yank hard to get himself oriented, to keep his momentum, and then he's scuffing to a stop on another rooftop, gravel crunching under his feet, stumbling a step or two until he bumps Tim's chest. Tim doesn't even shift his weight, and his arms go around Jason to steady him. His hand slides, sneaky as Tim himself, down Jason's back under the cape.

And there's Batman's shadow, falling over the both of them.

"Better," Batman says as he watches Jason extricate himself from Tim. "Take it at a run if you have to. Everything out here is as much about theatrics as skill. Don't ever let anyone see you off-guard."

"Got it," Jason says, because even if the word 'theatrics' makes him want to roll his eyes, he knows all too well what happens when the predators of Gotham scent weakness.

Like blood in the fucking water.

*

Watching Tim in action is a thing of fucking beauty.  Mostly Batman has them working together - covering each other’s blind spots and watching each other’s backs - but this time he puts a (huge) hand on Jason’s shoulder and nods at Tim to go in alone.  For a second Jason’s heart skips a beat, and he almost starts forward to back Tim up anyway, but Batman’s hand tightens just a little, and before Jason can do anything else, Tim’s going into action.  And all Jason can do is watch.

There are two of them, and they have a woman pinned to a wall, a knife to her throat, until Tim drops down on them.  He knocks the knife away from the victim first, textbook perfect, if they actually _had_ textbooks.  Then he’s swinging around, smooth and graceful, and with two sharp punches the men are on the _ground_.  Groaning.

“Who the fuck are you?” one of them tries to growl, but it comes out as more of a squeak.

Tim’s jaw is hard, the smallest hint of a smile on his lips, and he _does_ growl.  “I’m _Robin_ ,” he says.

“Holy shit,” Jason whispers.  Batman’s hand tightens again, warningly, but the two guys are too busy staring up at Tim - at _Robin_ \- to notice any noise coming from the shadows. 

Robin starts tying them up.  The first guy doesn’t resist much, but the second tries to fight back.  Tim hits him in the jaw - a precise, calculated hit that makes the guy spit blood and swear. 

Jason had wanted to laugh, every time he caught Tim practicing his ‘Robin’ look or ‘Robin’ voice.  It had all seemed so ridiculous.  Sure, _Batman_ could do it, but Tim was...he was _Tim_.  Scary when you knew him, knew what his twisty brain was capable of, but as Robin?  Jason had thought it would be a fiasco, truth be told.

As usual where Tim was concerned, he’d been wrong. 

Tim is _amazing_.  Just the right balance of menace and amusement in his expression, his eyes unreadable behind his mask.  And it hits Jason, suddenly, that Tim will never have to be afraid.  He’ll be able to protect himself. He’ll even be able to protect _others_. 

Everything will have been worth it, if only for that.

When Tim finishes, he goes to the victim and talks to her quietly.  She nods gratefully, then shakes her head.  Jason knows Tim’s trying to talk her into being a witness against the two men.  Tim passes her a card, and then, when she and the two men are distracted by the sound of sirens, he slips into the shadows and joins the two of them on the roof.

And then he looks at them anxiously, Robin falling away.  Bruce gives a nod.  “Good,” is all he says.

Jason rolls his eyes.  “Good?”  He catches Tim’s arm and whispers into his ear, “You were _badass_.”

The blinding smile Tim gives him in response is even better than watching him fight.

*

Eventually, it's Jason's turn to go it alone. Out of the corner of Jason's eye he sees Batman signaling Robin to stand down, sees the question on Tim's face, but he's already half-way down into the alley. He takes it at a run, like Batman suggested, jogging three paces before coming to a stop.

There are three men in front of him, and behind him a scraggly-looking boy who can't be more than six or seven. The kid is doing his level best  to get behind a dumpster.

One of the guys has a chain in his hands. Another has a length of pipe. Jason has a batarang in his palm before the third guy can get to whatever he's reaching for, and then the guy is wincing and jerking back, holding his wrist. Jason might have been aiming for his hand, but he'll take what he can get.

"Who the hell are you supposed to be?" Mr. Chain says.

"Shut up," hisses Mr. Pipe. "He's a mask."

"He's a kid -"

"He's a _mask._ "

"Anybody can put on a -"

Jason moves fast, kicking him high in the gut, where all the nerves come together. He gets the chain out of his hand and wraps that around the pipe before yanking the whole mess back and out of anyone's reach.

He expects the other two to rush him, now that the fight's started. The one who'd gone for a weapon tries again, but the one who dropped the pipe turns to run away. It takes two hits, about six seconds, before Mr. Weapon hits the ground, falling satisfyingly into the puddle of puke Mr. Chain is in the process of splattering on the pavement. Mr. Pipe keeps running right up until Jason's bolo wraps around his ankles, sending him pitching face-first to the ground.

"Are you okay, kid?" Jason asks, hauling the dumpster a bit further from the wall and shining his glove light into the dark corner.

He's mostly expecting the kid to try to run away, or maybe try to bite him if he reaches in after him. Jason's pretty sure that's what he would have done if he were cornered when he was that size. Instead, the kid leaps forward, practically into his arms. "You saved me!"

Jason blinks, glad the mask and the darkness hide his expression. "Yeah. I did." He's even more glad of the mask when the kid wraps his arms around Jason's waist and starts to cry. "What are you doing out here by yourself?"

The kid jerks away, looking up at him in near panic. "My dad! They hurt my dad! He told me to run-"

"Shh," Jason says, crouching to check the boy for injuries. He seems to be okay, if a bit scuffed up. "Do you remember where you were?"

The kid nods seriously and points to the east. "Behind McBurger. We were waiting for the shift change."

And the heat-lamp dried burgers dumped into the trash, wrapped up safe and clean in waxed paper, if you could get them before the rats and worse things. Jason glances up and Batman is gone, already headed east, but Tim is still crouched there, watching him.

Mr. Chain groans and starts trying to get up.

"We'll help your dad," Jason promises. "You stay right here for a minute, okay?" The kid nods, and Jason leaves him in his hiding spot. Jason can feel his heart pounding, but it's got more to do with anger than exertion. The thugs had gone down easy.

Mr. Pipe is sitting up with his legs tied together, frantically trying to untie himself and inchworm away at the same time, without much success. Mr. Unknown Weapon In The Pocket appears to be unconscious. Mr. Chain goes back down before he can properly get up again, his arms kicked out from under him as he tries to crawl. Jason grips the man by the hair and pushes his face against the concrete, into the filth and grime. "You wanted to know who I am," he says calmly as the man whimpers. "The name's Bluejay _._ " Jason hauls his arms behind his back and starts to tie him.

He's just taken down three grown men. Armed men. He didn't even break a sweat. These assholes were hassling a kid - hassling a family so down they were digging in bins for dried out burgers. They can't possibly have thought they'd get any money out of it. They just wanted to hurt someone. Scare someone.  Jason digs his knee into the small of Mr. Chain's back and pulls the zip-strip tighter. On a whim, Jason leans down close to the guy's ear. "Tell your friends," he says pleasantly, before he knocks him unconscious with a blow to the back of the neck.

He moves for Mr. Pipe next, but the man just puts his hands in the air. It's hard to tell in the dark, with all the other stinks in the alley, but Jason's pretty sure the guy already pissed himself.

Tim lands behind him as he ties up Mr. Pipe, making the kid gasp. Probably his orders were to stay back until Jason was done subduing the guys. The look Tim is giving him is nearly identical to the one the kid is giving him around the edge of the dumpster. Like Jason is best and coolest and _baddest_ thing on the block. Maybe in the whole world.

Jason thinks...he could get used to this.

*

It’s getting late.  They’ve been crouching here for forty-five minutes, watching an apparently abandoned warehouse.  

Jason takes a breath.  He’s about to say something, something about his legs cramping or being tired and hungry and fucking _done_ with this shit-

-when Batman _moves_.  

He flashes them a signal, so fast that by the time Jason’s brain processes it ( _thirty seconds then follow_ ) he’s already gone, black cape flaring behind him.  

Jason sees it now, too: about ten guys creeping in the shadows of the buildings while two more approach each other from opposite sides of the street.  All of them are packing _something_ , mostly guns, but he catches sight of some knives, too.

Oh _fuck_.  It’s a _gang war_.  

Batman drops down on top of them like an angel of fucking death.  Guys are already clutching their hands and dropping their guns with startled yelps of pain as batarangs fly out, each hitting its target like magic.

He’s watching so intently that he misses the thirty-second mark.

Tim doesn’t.

When Robin dives off the building - dives into _that_ \- Jason’s first instinct is to yell a warning, to grab him and hold him back.  Tim’s gotten good, but not take on twenty guys out to kill each other good.  It’s too late, though - Robin’s swinging down around the side, and all Jason can do is follow.

The next few minutes are chaos.  Jason’s never fought so many targets before, never had to defend himself against this many living people.  Just when he thinks it’s going to be too much, he feels Tim’s back against his, and can’t help but grin.

Together, they can do _anything_.

It’s like they can read each other’s minds.  Tim swings and Jason ducks, a batarang flying over his head.  Jason drops a smoke bomb and Tim already has his mask on.  It’s like a dance, if dancing involved knocking people’s teeth out.

And all of a sudden it’s over, and they’re surrounded by stunned, injured, and unconscious men sprawled on the ground at their feet.  

Jason turns to Tim.  Tim’s looking up at him with the same expression that’s probably on Jason’s face.

Something slams both of them to the ground as a sound shatters the night, the same sound he’s been hearing, but it’s so loud, _close-_

“Batman!” gasps Tim.  There’s a grunt of pain.  Jason pushes out from under Bruce and throws his last batarang at the one gunman who’d been smart enough to play possum.  The guy drops his gun with a yell, and scrambles away as Jason starts to come after him.  A bolo and he’s down, and then Jason turns.

“Is he-” he says, heart in his throat.

“I’m fine,” says Bruce.  He holds up his arm to show them.  It’s bleeding, but it’s not deep.  

“You saved us,” says Tim quietly as he starts bandaging Batman’s arm. Jason watches to make sure none of the other thugs get any bright ideas.  

“Of course,” says Batman.

It’s as he’s standing there, watching their backs, that one more thing hits Jason.  

They’re watching _his_ , too.  Not just Tim - he and Tim have been watching out for each other from the beginning.  

 _Batman’s_ watching his back.  

Fucking _Batman_.

All the other masks in Gotham, too.  People like Nightwing.

Like all the people he met at Nightwing’s party.  The Teen Titans.

Hell, maybe even _Superman_.  The fucking _Justice League_.

He and Tim have more than just each other, now.  They have friends.  No...they have _allies_.  For a second, he turns and catches Tim’s eye again.  Tim pauses in his bandaging and smiles at him.  

The sun will come up soon. They'll go home, and eat whatever amazing thing Alfred's made, and Jason's going to drag Tim into the showers and jerk him off while they try to be quiet enough to pretend no one knows what they're doing.

Jason knows he’s grinning like an idiot, but he just doesn’t care.

He figures it hasn't been too bad, for a first night on the job.


End file.
